


Blurred Lines

by GreenPhoenix



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 21:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2124717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenPhoenix/pseuds/GreenPhoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Toby goes to a shady club to prove Chris' innocence in his murder case. While there he faces some dark desires in himself and others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blurred Lines

Toby watched the man in the crowded club; he made his way through he crowd and they let him. He had an air of controlled menace about him. Toby knew the type far too well after seven years in Oz. Here on the outside his radar was sometimes off, the lines were getting blurred. Maybe he was not dangerous, merely fronting. But he was also a lead Toby could not ignore.  
He made eye contact, and the man noticed him and winked, then walked over. Game on, then.

*  
Chris was on Death Row, and the clock was ticking for him. Toby was sure he was innocent of those murders that had put him there. So he had to do a little detecting to find the real killer. The police wasn’t much help, and agent Taylor had a hard-on for Chris as the killer. So that left a recently paroled lawyer, or ex-lawyer as it were.

Bryce Tibbits and Byam Lewis had frequented a club called Domino, and he knew that was the place to start. Domino was owned by one Dylan Zimmerman, fun name that. He heard they had certain specialties for customers willing to pay extra. Perhaps he’d get lucky and find something useful for the case.

*  
“So,” said the man, “are you new here?”  
“Yeah. What’s going on?”  
“What do you want to be going on?”  
“Everything,” he said. He didn’t say anything about Chris yet, or ask any questions, he needed to get a feel for the place, who was here and why.  
“I have a few people you could meet.”  
“Introduce me then.”  
“What are you into?” That was the important question.  
“What have you got?”  
“Oh we have ladies and gents of all types get my drift?”  
“I do. What do they do?”  
“Oh,” said the man and fixated his grey eyes on Toby, “they can hurt you if you like, or you can hurt them.”  
Hurt seemed to be Chris’ thing, or inflicting it at least. He had tried asking, but Chris despite facing the death penalty was still elusive about what how his meeting with those men had gone down.  
Hurt was something Toby knew well, from the likes of Vern and Chris. Even McManus who’d placed him with Adebisi despite his being a prison novice. He still inflicted it on himself every day while thinking of his own respectable body count.

“Oh hurt,” he said. “I always like being hurt.”  
“Hmm,” said the man. “I could help you with that.”  
“How much?”  
“This isn’t the place to talk business. Let’s go backstage and we’ll get along to that.”  
Toby nodded.

*  
“How much can you take and what should I call you?” asked the man in a small room upstairs at the club.  
“A lot. But for now let’s start easy, okay? Call me John”  
“I’m George,” said the man and shook his hand.  
They agreed on a payment and some basic rules. No marks left on the skin, and a safe word. Toby chose “emerald.” It seemed to fit.  
George used soft velvet ropes to tie him to a cross. Suffering martyr, he thought, how apt. He was doing this for Chris, but some sick sense of satisfaction was surfacing.  
It was a strong sensation when the man touched him with rough hands, and pinched his nipples hard.  
“Will you do as I say?” he asked.  
“Yes.”  
George looked at his tattoo.  
“Someone left an ugly mark on your body. No doubt in your soul as well. Did he own you?”  
“No. Not anymore.”  
“Good, I don’t like to share. But someone still owns your heart.”  
“Maybe.”  
“That’s no answer. I can feel your devotion for him, even though you’ve not said a word.”  
“Maybe you’re him.”  
“For tonight I can be.” This was a weird master/slave thing anyway.  
George had a whip in his hands, and lightly struck, not enough to bruise or leave a mark. Toby shuddered at the sensation.  
“That tattoo is a prison thing,” said George. “You had a master in there. Is he the one?”  
Toby frowned.  
“Ah, there’s someone else. Or maybe you rule him by being the one that got away.”  
Toby said nothing. George slapped him slightly, raising goose bumps on his skin.  
“Two powerful men lost their heads for you didn’t they? What have you got to make them like that?”  
Toby moaned as George fondled his balls.  
“Too much real world stuff for now I think. I like you John, if that’s your name. Beg me to fuck you.”  
“Please, sir, fuck me.”  
“No need for sir. I’m not the one who hurt you in there. I’m the one you’re paying to hurt you. Again.”  
“Please, master, fuck me.”  
“Better, much better slave.”  
George loosened the ropes and lead Toby to the bed where he retied him. He put a gag in his mouth, and slowly caressed his neck.  
“First, this,” said George and held up a blue dildo in the cold light. He started preparing his slave with his fingers and some lube. Relatively safe, then. George started moving the thing into him and then fucked him with it.  
“Don’t close your eyes. Think of the other man later. I bet we’re alike somehow.”  
They were, a little bit.  
George fucked him with the dildo and he would take it for Chris’ sake. He would.  
Before he reached a peak, George pulled it out, he removed the gag.  
“Beg me again.”  
“Please, master, fuck me.”  
George did, plunging his cock deep inside his slave and Toby tried to move, but the ropes wouldn’t let him. He wanted out, and felt fear as George fucked him harder and harder.  
“No, no,” he cried, “stop this, I want out” But that wasn’t the safeword. All he could do was lie back and take it. Much like in Oz, but this was his choice wasn’t it?  
“You are mine,” said George. “You are a worthless little bitch and I rule here.”  
That was true, and he surrendered to the knowledge. He had no power, therefore he felt empowered.  
Toby was pushed into a white-hot release that nearly pushed him off the bed, despite the ropes.

Afterwards they talked. Toby felt relaxed oddly enough.  
“You remind me of someone I used to know,” said George. “Bryce Tibbits”  
“Oh. How?”  
“Same rich boy look, underneath a desire for punishment. “ Tibbits sure found it.  
George smiled. “But you don’t know him so let’s talk about something else.”  
They did and Toby left promising to return. He’d hit paydirt.

*  
He saw Chris on Death Row.  
“What did you do with Tibbits?” he asked.  
“You don’t mess about,” said Chris.  
“We don’t have the time, Chris. Tell me every sordid little detail.”  
“I fucked him and gave him money.”  
“Okay. Did you hurt him?”  
“Okay I did. I used a whip and some stuff. But I didn’t kill him.”  
“Byam Lewis?”  
“He was a whore too. Same deal. Carachi was a regular kid. Still hurt him.”  
“ You met them at the Domino?”  
“Yeah. But I’m innocent Tobe, you gotta believe me.”  
“I do. Did you meet the owner?”  
“No. It was just a redheaded chick, Rita”  
“Did you meet someone called George?”  
“No. What are you doing Toby?”  
“Saving your sorry ass is what I’m doing.”  
“Are you still seeing that teacher?”  
“Yeah, I am. Look, I know you’re jealous, But I love you.” Which was why he let George fuck him oddly enough.  
He wouldn’t tell Chris that.

*  
He kept digging, despite the fact that his family would hate it, and Chris too. George was the man’s name, George Steele. He had a record, assault and battery. He did a few years in Oz. Well, well.  
Now he was clean and co-owned the club with Dylan. One night he did see a redhead and managed to get her name. Rita. She was the hostess. So who killed those boys and why?  
Toby watched Rita lead a couple to the backroom.  
“Can I watch?” he asked.  
They nodded.  
“You can play too,” said the woman, a blonde pretty thing with blue eyes.  
“Sure,” he said.  
The couple fucked with urgency while he watched them.  
“Come on,” said the woman and gave him her hand.  
He fucked her while her husband jerked off while maintaining eye contact with Toby. Toby relished the feel of the woman’s body under his own, and the steely gaze of the man on him, owning him. He climaxed when the other man did, as if he’d just received permission to do so. It wasn’t like Oz at all; he chose to give up control.  
There was no love here, and so he was free to be someone else’s slave. This was to set his lover free, not for any other reason.

“Nice show,” said George, “if a little tame.”  
“You watched?”  
“Yeah. Maybe you can come home with me?”  
“Isn’t that against the rules?”  
“No. I make them so they’re mine to break. Come.”  
He did.

*

The apartment was covered with antiques and modern art. Seemed expensive.  
“So you were a prison bitch?” said George.  
“Yeah. But I got revenge.”  
“I’m sure you did. See being a bitch is not a choice, being a submissive is. It’s all about taking control.”  
“How so?”  
“You control the master, he does what you want. Not like in prison at all.”  
“I should hope not. I don’t want to talk about it.”  
“I know. I did time too.”  
“Really.”  
“I’ve gone straight. Mostly.”  
Toby sighed a little. George tied him up again, and whipped him harder this time. He protested, but George didn’t stop. He forgot the safe word, and then George mounted him from behind, slapping his ass till it was red. He called him a slave and a bitch. It was his choice this time. It made all the difference. He wanted it, craved the submission and the subsequent pleasure it brought. He thought of Chris and how his own desire for the man had made him insane with it, dying for just a touch of his hand. This was for Chris, all this madness.

When George was sleeping he searched the place, but found no clues.

*

Toby tried to keep seeing Marion, but she grew tired of his absences and left. Chris was getting desperate, pacing like a caged animal. Toby had to get Rita alone and talk to her some more.

*

”I shouldn’t talk to you,” said Rita and fidgeted nervously.  
“Do talk to me anyway. Do you know why men go missing from here?”  
“I might. Look, you can’t tell him.”  
“I won’t.”  
“The master sometimes takes fancy on a boy and then he goes missing. He did with those boys on TV.”  
“Would you testify to it?”  
“I would. If you help me get away from him.”  
“Come with me right now,” said Toby. His family could hide Rita if the police wouldn’t.

*

Rita’s confession was fine, but Toby felt he needed more proof. Serial killers liked trophies. George might have some at the club. He agreed to go to a party George had with some clients. If he found something he would strengthen the case.

*  
He’d gone to the club for almost a month now; he was seeing George most nights. Despite himself he liked what George did to him, how it made him feel. He wasn’t cheating on Chris, just finding evidence. Or so he told himself. He learned George liked some regular stuff too. He liked it when Toby sucked him off while he was doing taxes. Many times he’d come into Toby’s willing mouth while tangling fingers in blond hair.  
Toby didn’t even think of Chris those times.

*  
The party was kicking off. George paraded Toby around on a leash tied to a dog collar. He wore leather pants that George had chosen for him and nothing else.  
“Can I borrow him?” asked the man whose wife Toby had fucked.  
“Sure,” said George.  
The man pushed Toby to his knees and took out his dick.  
“Suck me,” he said.  
Toby did while the guests watched and applauded. He felt their eyes on him as the man fucked his throat, and dictated his favored rhythm with hands in Toby’s hair.  
Later George tied him to a cross and whipped him in front of everyone. This time there would be marks, but no scarring.  
“You’re my whore now,” he said. “My bitch, my slave. I own your ass.”  
He nodded. He knew his place. Just like he did in Oz, at least at first.  
When George was done, he took him down and watched the reddened skin. It looked fine.  
The men and women were fucking in groups now, losing their control.  
“Hey,” said the man from earlier. “Can I fuck him?”  
George handed over Toby’s leash, and the man paraded him around for a few turns. He stopped in the middle of the room, and pushed Toby’s leather pants down. He tied Toby’s hands in front of him and bent him over a table. His wife smiled and said, “Fuck him.”  
The man pulled his pants down and took out his cock; he prepared Toby a little and then fucked him hard while slapping his ass. The man’s touch made him shiver; it was so rough and uncaring.  
“Don’t,” Toby said, panicking for a second, then he remembered that he was doing this for Chris and grew silent, save for the odd moan. He was in the moment now, control was lost for him and he gave himself over to the other man’s will. The sweat on his skin, and the feel of the table he was bent over told him what he needed to know. The partygoers’ laughter and cries where distant. All he felt was his temporary master’s skin slapping against his own, the cock moving inside him, bringing him a pleasured pain.  
There was no love here, and no need for it either.  
He kept fucking Toby till they both climaxed hard.  
George smiled. “Now I’ll have my slave back,” he said and untied Toby’s hands.  
“You and me will make sweet love,” he said and took him to his room, the other man’s come still in his ass.

*

“I know who you really are and what you want,” he told Toby as he tied him to the bed.  
“What?”  
“Tobias Beecher, you took Rita away and I can’t find her. You are trying to prove your lover’s innocence. You got your hands dirty in the process. Let’s play a game.”  
George took out a gun. “If you play a game of Russian roulette I’ll give you my trophies from those boys. Do we have a deal?”  
Toby frowned. He could die for Chris, or George might kill him anyway.  
“We do,” he said.  
“You really love him,” said George. “I’ll fuck you while we do it.”  
Of course.

George pushed inside him and pointed the gun at his own head. One. Not gone.  
George aimed at Toby’s head and pushed the trigger. Two. He was alive and George fucked him hard. Toby realized despite himself that he and George had a lot in common after all, both addicted to the rush of danger, the fear and adrenalin.  
He aimed at his own head. Three. Nope. Toby felt oddly relived that George was still alive.  
George thrust and pointed the gun at Toby’s head. Four. Still alive.  
“One to go,” said George. “That’s my bullet, lover. But I don’t want to go yet. So I’m gonna let you win. “  
“Ah, fuck,” breathed George and came inside Toby’s body, both still trembling with shock.  
“You sure you want this?”  
“Yes.” said Toby while George untied him. Later George gave him the trophies. Toby blew him one final time while he held them in his hands and said goodbye to Toby, he came and shouted with the pain of losing.

*

Toby allowed him one final fuck without the ropes or guns.  
“Tell me you love me,” said George, while fucking him.  
“I love you,” breathed Toby against his neck. It sounded real, so George believed that at least in the moment.  
“Tell me I own you and that he doesn’t, even if it’s a lie.”  
“I love you more than I ever loved Chris, you will always own my soul, my master. There’s nothing I won’t do for you.”  
George came inside his slave one last time and smiled.  
*

George smiled. So this was Toby’s Chris. Well, he looked good.  
“Hi,” he said from his cell.  
“Who the hell are you?” asked Chris, eyes blazing.  
“I’m your boyfriend’s boyfriend, “ said Steele smugly.  
“What?”  
“He didn’t tell you. That’s priceless. Your little Beecher came to me to prove your innocence. In order to do that, he had to get well and truly fucked. I did it and he loved it.”  
Keller lunged at the bars.  
“Now, now. He also put me on Death Row. That means he loves you, not me. He could have stayed with me, but no. He throws it away for someone who’s still facing life in prison. He loves you, Keller.”  
Keller was calmer, but he still glared needles at Steele.  
“I love him, that’s the funny part. He got the hooks in me. That’s three killers that are nuts about him. What’s that tell you?”  
Keller was silent.  
“I don’t know. He killed someone too, so we recognize our own. Oh, and he has a nice ass. I’ll think of fucking him when they fry me.”  
“Why are you talking about him? Think you can get a rise out of me?”  
“Now, that’s a concept. No, just boasting a little. Tomorrow you go back to EmCity, and I’m waiting to die. I’ll miss him and he sure won’t bust his balls to get me off. He did all this for you. He sucked me all those times thinking of you. He let me fuck him for your sake. He loved it, all of it. He was a good little slave. He was like method actor; he really believed the lie that he loved me. All that so you’d get out. All of it for you. Hell, we even played a nice little game of Russian roulette for you. I could have died while fucking him, or he could have died for you. That’s loyalty.”  
Keller looked at Steele with a deadly gaze. But he was right; Toby did come through for him.

*

“So they are reducing your sentence to ten years,” said Toby.  
“Really?”  
“Yes. I’m fairly sure anyway.”  
“He fucked you,” said Keller.  
“To get you off.”  
“You got off to get me off.”  
“Yes.”  
“I talked to Steele all through the night. He seemed very fond of you.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be. When you get me out, you can make it up to me.”  
“I know. I look forward to it.”  
He did. In the meantime he’d found out some ugly truths about himself. How he and Chris had more in common than he’d ever thought. That the lines between him and the people in Oz were blurry. That Chris owned his soul, and always would, just as he owned a part of Chris forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this Free for all prompt:Fic-A/U- Toby is paroled and sets out to prove Chris is NOT a serial killer. As he's embroiling himself in some "rough trade" he gets drawn into a scene where "safe, sane and consensual" is not the norm. A part of him likes this and maybe he discovers a bit of his dark side (or at least the part of him that's angry over all he went through in prison). I don't want him to turn into a serial killer, however (or Keller to have been one, for that matter). Just for him to be fighting some demons that arise from his exposure to this underground scene. He sees how in these cases the line between pain and pleasure and consensual and non gets blurred. I don't want him raping anyone, or being raped, though. Hopefully I'm making some sense, lol.


End file.
